


Next Time, Leave Your Friends

by RoseisaRoseisaRose



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Drabble, Fighting, Friends to Enemies, Swords, That's it that's the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23253133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseisaRoseisaRose/pseuds/RoseisaRoseisaRose
Summary: a handful of times that Felix Fraldarius really, really doesn't want to fight you right nowWritten for the Felannie discord drabble challenge; this week's prompt was "Unwanted Attention." (Which I provided! Three cheers, me.)
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19
Collections: Those Who Drabble in the Dark





	Next Time, Leave Your Friends

Sylvain pushed the sword into Felix’s hands. It was a several sizes too big, and heavier than the practice swords he used with Glenn and his father. Felix tried to keep both his hands from shaking as he held it.

“It’ll be fun,” Sylvain said, confident and cheerful and a full head taller than Felix. “If Ingrid can get a hit on me, then you can get a hit on me. Ingrid’s a _girl_.”

Felix was deeply, deeply afraid of Ingrid. He did not say this.

Sylvain might not have seen the shaky hands, but he sensed that casual male chauvinism was not as convincing as he might have previously hoped. “Hey, I’ll let you take the first swing; I’ll just block,” he promised. He cocked his head to the side and looked down at his friend. “Don’t worry, Felix. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Felix tried to think of a way to explain that he believed him, but he still didn’t want to fight. He didn’t try to think of if he believed him or not. He could sort that out another time.

“I have to go,” he finally stammered out.

He hoped that would be enough. He ran away.

*

Sylvain held out the sword across the hallway, blocking Felix’s passage.

“Watch where you point that thing, you idiot,” Felix snapped. Sylvain held fast.

“Seriously, Fe, you can’t just stay in your room all the time. You’ve been here for three weeks and you haven’t spoken three words to my family.”

“I’m not in my room all the time,” Felix snapped. “Go visit Galatea if that’s what worries you.”

“Do you want to spar?” Sylvain asked. He propped the sword up and offered it out. “You always want to spar.”

“No,” Felix. He used the opening to push past Sylvain, charging ahead down the long hallway of Castle Gautier.

“I’m sorry, Felix; I miss him too,” Sylvain said, jogging to keep up with Felix’s power walk. “But I can’t help you if you shut me out like this.”

“I don't want your help,” Felix snapped. He increased his speed and left Sylvain behind, hoping his friend wouldn’t outright run to keep up with him. For once, he got what he wanted.

*

Sylvain dropped the sword in Felix’s lap, nearly knocking the soupspoon out of his hand. Felix glared at Sylvain as he took a seat across from him.

“I think, my friend, I owe you a match,” Sylvain said easily, leaning forward.

“You owe me three hours of my life,” Felix snapped, returning his attention to his food. “That’s how long I waited for you to show up at the training grounds last night.

“Did you get some good training in, at least?” Syvlain asked. He winced under Felix’s sharp glance. “Aw, come on. No hard feelings, right, buddy?”

“I don’t care what you do,” Felix said “But you’re going to wish you’d trained more when Holst Goneril finds out what you’ve been up to.”

Sylvain grinned, and there was a wicked delight in his grin that made Felix even angrier for reasons he had no intention of unpacking that afternoon. He pushed back from his seat and picked up the sword Sylvain had so helpfully provided.

“I’m late to training,” he said simply. “ _Alone_.”

He hoped Syvlain didn’t hear his voice crack on the final word, and hoped no one else noticed how quickly he fled the dining hall.

*

Sylvain pointed his sword at Felix from across Grondor Field. Felix didn’t hope for much these days. But selfishly, he had hoped Sylvain wouldn’t see him. He had hoped Sylvain wouldn’t be there. He’d played out this moment in his mind for months, maybe years, imagining what the knight would say when they finally met face to face in battle for the last time.

_No hard feelings._

_I’m sorry._

_I promise I won’t hurt you._

Sylvain said nothing, his mouth a harsh line and his eyes, for once, unreadable. Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps, in the end, there was little that Felix hoped for, after all.

Felix unsheathed his sword, lined up his swing, and ran.

**Author's Note:**

> My dumb brain really thought I'd lock this one in at 300 words.
> 
> If you need something to cheer you up, may I suggest reading literally anything else I've ever written. Also gonna post some absolutely uncompromising fluff next week, if that helps at all. But I dunno! Today was for angst, babes.
> 
> [ I'm on twitter now if you like that sort of thing: @Rose3Writes. ](https://twitter.com/Rose3Writes)


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